


Astrid Alexandra

by the_wordbutler



Series: Motion Practice [17]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Legal Drama, motion practice universe, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 20:25:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_wordbutler/pseuds/the_wordbutler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor's daughter is small, but mighty.</p>
<p>Then again, so is her mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Astrid Alexandra

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, as always, to my magnificent betas for reading what is essentially the most cavity-inducing thing I've written in ages. Jen and saranoh are the best.

“You are small, but mighty,” Thor murmurs, and the baby resting in his arms shifts as though she can understand him.

The room is quiet and calm, now, a far cry from the chaos of their afternoon. Jane is comfortably reclined in bed, her long eyelashes resting on the tops of her cheeks as she finally sleeps. He’d worried about her, too, until the nurse chuckled at him and patted his arm. “Everybody reacts differently to childbirth, honey,” she’d said as he’d stroked Jane’s forehead and watched her drift off. “If Mama wants sleep, we give her sleep. Especially since, pretty soon, that one’s gonna want _Mama_.”

She’d nodded to the carefully-swaddled bundle in the plastic nursery cart, and Thor’d attempted a smile. The nurse later offered to remove the cart from the room and allow Thor to sleep, but he’d refused. Now, in the dark, he sits on the small couch under the window and watches the child in his arms wriggle curiously.

No, not _the child_. His daughter.

She’s tiny and soft, with a shock of golden blonde hair that reminds Thor of his own baby pictures, the ones his mother still displays in the front hallway of the farmhouse. His mother and father plan on visiting in the morning—his brother as well, albeit grudgingly—and Darcy has already promised to allow them a twelve-hour grace period before she demands “cuddles and snuggles and whiffs of that awesome baby smell.” For now, it’s only the three of them, alone in the hospital room.

His daughter blinks slowly, her eyes open but unfocused, curiously attempting to take in the world around her. She’d screamed until the doctors handed her to Jane, but then had settled comfortably into her mother’s grip. Thor wonders whether she’ll be calm and thoughtful, like her mother, or more like he was as a child.

He hopes she’s not entirely like him. Jane already complains he’s “too loud for this world.” He’s not entirely sure what will happen if there are _two_ rambunctious Odinsons in their household.

Astrid releases a squeak of a sound that he suspects might be a yawn, and he chuckles as he strokes a big finger over her cheek. “Astrid Alexandra,” he murmurs, the name rolling off his tongue. “Your mother wanted a name she could shout from the rooftops when you climb trees and skin your knees,” he informs his daughter, rocking her slightly. “We ruled out giving you my mother’s name as a middle name after we realized that it didn’t echo the way your mother wanted. Of course, be glad that you’re not a boy. Otherwise, you would be called _Liam_.”

“I heard that, you know,” a quiet voice points out, and Thor feels himself grin before he even glances away from his daughter. In the hospital bed, Jane’s shifted around to watch the two of them, her head pillowed on an arm and a small smile on her face. Her hair’s settled like a cloud around her shoulders, released from the ponytail she’d demanded while in labor, and Thor’s momentarily distracted by how beautiful she is. Oh, she’d argue otherwise—she’s without make-up, dressed in a hospital gown, and the dark circles of effort are still settled around her eyes—but Thor still finds himself breathless. He’d fallen in love with the quietly brilliant trial assistant who draped herself in blankets during the cold winter months, but he’s rendered speechless by the fiancée who gave him his daughter.

He’s still staring when Astrid stirs and mewls, a needy little sound that brings with it a smacking of lips. “Yes, yes,” he tells her, pushing himself from the couch and wandering across the room, “that _is_ your mother. I’m glad to know that I’ve lost your favor in less than an hour.”

“I think she only favors me because I can feed her,” Jane comments. Astrid settles the moment she’s in her mother’s arms, no meals required, and Thor watches as the woman he loves runs a finger along their daughter’s knuckles. Astrid flexes her hand, spreading out long, delicate fingers, and Jane shakes her head. “You look like your daddy,” she decides.

Thor grins. “That is a horrible thing to tell our newborn,” he warns, and Jane’s laughter reminds him of soft bells. He leans down to kiss her forehead but somehow ends up lingering there, his nose against her hair and his lips pressed to her skin. For some reason he cannot explain, he’s overcome with the desire to wrap her and Astrid both in his arms and hold them both close. It’s a strange urge—there’s no danger looming overhead, no desperate need to protect them from harm—but they suddenly both feel desperately breakable and precious.

He wonders if Jane’d punch him for thinking her anything but iron-hewn and endlessly strong.

But before he can ask her that very thing, she leans away from him and reaches up to cup his jaw with a hand. “You okay?” she asks, almost murmuring.

He knows from the way she smiles at him that his smile is as genuine and overwhelmed as it feels. He hopes that his eyes aren’t wet, though—or that, if they are, she’ll keep that particular fact to herself. “I am the best I’ve ever been,” he informs her, brushing the hair out of her face.

She sighs and shakes her head. “Flatterer,” she comments, but her smile is as bright as any star.


End file.
